Dreams and Demons
by Casey.Enough
Summary: Clary's Shadowhunter training has been relatively uneventful... until the demon fight which changes her life. Soon her nightmares are becoming reality. Will they be able to stop the demon, or will it be too late? Set post City of Glass, rated T for violence and fluff (mainly Clace, little bit o' Malec)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Just a warning as things get started off here: this is a pretty dark chapter. Like, kind of really dark. And a bit violent. But hang in there, it's only temporary. Cross my heart._

Chapter 1

 _CLARY POV_

It's an odd sort of sentiment, upon being bitten by an enormous demon, to think-

 _Not again_.

But then again, most things about Clary Fray's life were sort of odd. Including, but not limited to, the demon who was currently crushing her side. Haphazardly, she began to swing her glowing seraph blade in it's general direction, blinded by the pain of her wound. But the creature's head seemed to dart inches away from the arc of her blade, it's teeth sinking further into her with each passing second.

"Clary!" she heard from a distance, and winced. It was Jace, the distress ringing clear in his voice. The others, Jace, Alec, and Isabelle, had better things to do (or, rather, stab repeatedly) than constantly play knight in shining armor. In the handful of demon battles she'd fought in since beginning her Shadowhunter training, for the most part she'd held her own, only sustaining minor injuries and learning to keep her head in battle. But the demon she currently faced was particularly cunning- and really unlike any she'd ever seen.

Suppressing a scream, she hacked with finality at the demon's nearest extremity- it's acidic, powerful mouth, currently doing her the most damage. The jaws released her with a gurgling hiss, and she dropped several feet to the floor of the dusty warehouse where they were currently battling. She landed painfully on her bad side, surprised by how quickly she was becoming dizzy from the wound. The demon, on the other hand, which she had originally thought was a Ravener given it's insectile form and massive jaws, seemed relatively unaffected. Dislodging the steaming seraph blade with a forceful shake of head, the beast reared it's head back as if ready to finish her off. She'd never seen a demon so unaffected by the angelic metal before. It completely baffled her. The shock and pain from her injury coupled with this knowledge left her totally unsure of how to continue, and totally unable to defend herself, as the demon began to descend on her.

"Jace." she whispered, and she was aware in that moment of the silence of the room around her. The sounds of battle, clashing blades and panicked breaths and hissing demons, had halted or stopped completely. It was entirely possible that the other three had disposed of all the other demons while she had been caught up with this one. It was also possible, she thought grimly, that she was dying. Demon poison took no prisoners, and the constant burning and aching of the wound at her side told her that whatever the hell this thing was, it was definitely poisonous. Looming directly above her, it was nothing more than a blurry mass of gnashing teeth and dripping ichor. It's eyes, like many demons, were large and pure black, focusing in on her with uncharacteristic purpose. It was like something out of her nightmares.

 _This is how Shadowhunters are supposed to die,_ she thought. _In battle. Defending people. Killing demons._ But even if she could come to terms with that, she couldn't come to terms with the fact that the last thing she would see would be this hideous… thing. Curling up slightly, she allowed herself to shut her eyes, and find that face that always floated just inches behind her eyelids. Her beautiful golden boy. Her Jace. Even in her mind, he seemed to illuminate the impending darkness, with memories of him laughing, smile flashing with his adorable chipped tooth, him playing the piano as she sat next to him on the bench, leaning against him so she could feel the music leaving his fingers and flying out into the air, him holding her and for once everything feeling right in the world. A single tear tracing it's way along her cheek, she braced herself for the blow that would end her life.

And it didn't come.

Lifting a single eyelid, she saw him. As if her thoughts had brought him to life, he stood before her, blazing with the glow of an avenging angel, facing the demon which had taken her down. Seeing him face the demon, was like looking at a ying-yang symbol. On one side was Jace, alight with witchstone and seraph blade and the glinting gold of his hair, dark Marks standing out like stains against his skin where his gear ended. On the other side, the demon- a seething mass of blackness and shadow, the light from Jace bouncing off his unblinking eyes and blood-slicked jaws. For several moments, they seemed to size each other up. Then, they danced.

Biting back a whimper, Clary used what was left of her waning strength to prop herself up to a sitting position against a nearby wall, too afraid to formally assess her wounds. She was vaguely aware of two familiar dark-haired faces shifting around the edges of her vision, gesturing gravely and speaking loudly at her. But it was as if their voices were filtering down through a swimming pool. Waving away their concerns, she pointed over at Jace, who was currently driving a blade up through the underbelly of the massive demon, wincing at the resulting spray of viscous ichor.

"Jace," she murmured, aware of how pathetic she must sound to them. "Help him." To her dismay, they shook their heads. Isabelle crouched down, extending a hand towards the wound which dominated Clary's left side.

"Jesus, Clary." she said, hesitating several inches from actually touching it. Her eyes shone with concern as they met Clary's. "This is bad. Really bad."

Clary caught Isabelle's hand, entwining it weakly in her own. "Isabelle." she said. "Alec," she added, glancing up at his blue eyes. " _Please_."

Isabelle lowered her eyes for a moment, her long dark hair obscuring her face. Clary could tell she was torn. But slowly, she raised her eyes and nodded her head, turning to launch herself into battle with Jace. Now only Alec remained- lingering conflictedly, like a cat unsure whether it wanted to be indoors or out. Suddenly, he reached down to touch her face- an uncharacteristically warm gesture from a person who had once hated her. Then he, too, turned to join the fight.

Clary exhaled, painfully, knowing that the wall was the only thing keeping her upright. The trickling fire of the demon poison was spreading outward through her veins like acid, burning her alive from the inside out. Finally alone, she allowed her face to contort in it's true pain. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before- even unlike the poison of other demon's. She knew, if left untreated, it would kill her quickly. And there was nothing she could really do to treat it, not properly, only slow it. Numbly reaching an arm into the pocket of her torn gear, she pulled out a stele. However, the _iratze_ she sketched on with a faint sensation she had once described as burning disappeared almost as quickly as she had drawn it. And what's more, it further sapped her energy. Her arm fell to her lap uselessly, stele still clutched in her slender fingers. She focused her energy on keeping her eyes open and trained on the fight in front of her.

In the distance, the battle was seemingly drawing to a close. The combined force, cunning, and speed of the Lightwood family appeared to be too much for even this demon to overcome. They seemed to move together like clockwork, not just the parabatai Jace and Alec, but Isabelle too, with the familiarity and foresight of people who'd battled their whole lives together. As the demon launched itself at one of them, another drew it away, and the third sunk a dagger into it's back. Clary wondered vaguely if, given enough time, she could have ever reached this level of synchronicity and grace with them.

She supposed she would never really know.

The thought pierced the fuzziness of her mind like a shard of ice. Despite her best efforts to stay awake, despite Jace and Alec and Isabelle's best efforts to slay the demon, despite all her training and all her runes, she was dying. Not just dying, but dying alone, in a corner in an abandoned factory where the Clave had been anonymously informed demonic presences had been off the charts recently. They weren't wrong. She should call her mother, or, god forbid, Simon. But her phone was in the gear bag, which they had left outside. She would settle for just having Jace nearby. For the first time since being wounded, true despair colored her thoughts, making her shudder.

As if it could sense her emotion from across the room, the demon glanced up at her. And, disturbingly, it smiled. Or at least that was the closest way Clary could describe it, though there was nothing warm or friendly in this smile. This was the smile of a cat who finally had a rodent trapped beneath it's paws, on the mouth of a demon. It almost made her ill.

Then, it was gone. Not just the smile, but the entire demon seemed to dissolve into cloud of ashen black smoke. For several seconds, the three Shadowhunters stood dazed, blades suddenly slicing through smoke and nothingness. Then, as quickly as the demon had vanished, Jace spun to face Clary. And, not caring whether or not the demon would reappear, he ran to her, sliding on his knees down to reach her more quickly.

"Jace." she mumbled, hands pushing uselessly at the slick ground below her, seeking a way to move closer to him, to hold him. " _Ah_." she whispered, cursing the pain that shot through her body as she moved. A look of acute horror blossomed over Jace's face as he assessed her wound, which was still leaking blood, slowly soaking the tattered remains of her gear jacket, fusing it to her body. The demon's teeth had sunk deep into her side, leaving a several pairs of raw punctures. It was from there that the fire which now seemingly consumed her body stemmed, but it was spreading by the minute. Clary felt unbearably hot, and she could tell she was sweating, but she could feel her body shaking as well, as if she had a bad fever. To be fair, she probably did. Her breathing was becoming shallow and choppy, and she shook her head as Jace reached for the stele in her hand.

"It won't help." she said, her voice fading but urgent. "I've already tried." Jace's eyes burned into hers, gold and blurry and familiar. Gently, impossibly gently, he reached a hand to caress her face. Even with her body wracked with pain, his touch was comforting, and her heart seemed to flutter.

"Alec!" he called without taking his eyes off hers. "Call Magnus!" His voice tremored with an unfamiliar uncertainty. He was scared.

"I already have." came the reply from nearby. Another time, maybe she would have been able to lift her eyes from Jace's to acknowledge Alec. But she urgently needed to hold his gaze. A vague corner of her mind knew it was the only thing still tethering her to consciousness. Another wave of burning pain passed through her, however, and her hand flew to her side, an involuntary gasp of pain escaping her mouth.

"Jace." she whispered, her vision misting over. "It _hurts_." She sounded like a petulant child to herself, but Jace's face filled with an impossible pain, as if it was him who was wounded.

"Clary…" he breathed, pulling her closer to him, ignoring her shaking and burn of the ichor surrounding her wounds as it touched his skin. "I know. I'm sorry, I know it hurts. I'm so sorry."

For a moment, all she could sense was his warmth around her, his heartbeat against her ear. She breathed him in, all sweat and arcid ichor and dust and somehow distinctly Jace, like sunshine and citrus and soap. She had been unaware of her own tears until she saw them, caught on the front of his shirt. Then the fire reached her fingertips and she clutched balled her fists in his shirt, just to have something to hold onto. Her breaths shuddered in and out of her lungs, and it felt not like a natural rhythm, but something she had to struggle to do. She knew she didn't have long, and she should talk to him, but his voice was so sweet in her ears he was impossible to interrupt.

"Clary. Please stay with me. Magnus is on his way, he knows how to deal with these things. He's done it before. He's even done it to _you_ before. You're going to be f-fine." His voice was husky with unseen tears. _Shadowhunters don't cry,_ she thought. Distantly, she remembered a story of a boy and his falcon, but Jace's voice brought her back to reality. "Clary? Please just say something. Clary, I need you to be okay."

"Jace," she breathed against the darkness beginning to eat away at the corners of her vision. He turned her head up gently to face him, and even in her condition his name sounded like a song on her tongue. The sweetest thing she could say. Well, maybe the second-sweetest. "Jace, I love you." His gold eyes burned into hers, and he leaned down to plant a single kiss on her lips, soft and slow and burning.

"I love you too, Clary. More than anything." he spoke against her mouth, eyes still locked on hers. Then, he clenched them shut, and Clary felt a tear fall against her cheek. She made no motion to brush it away. In fact, she could make no motion to do anything. Just as his eyes opened once more, hers closed.

And the darkness and stillness finally consumed her.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Womp. So it doesn't exactly start off on a "high note". Yeah, things don't actually get all that much happier for a couple chapters. But they certainly do get more interesting (seriously hang in there) :')_

Chapter 2

JACE POV

"No…" Jace breathed, unable to move, unable to feel, unable to do anything more than stare helplessly at the small, unmoving body which he clutched gently but desperately in his arms. He hated being helpless- his whole life, even after coming to live with the Lightwood's, he had never needed anyone. He'd learned to trust and depend on Alec and Izzy, but that had taken years. Then she had walked into his life, and torn the rug out from underneath him and everything he believed in. He became so vulnerable, so utterly dependent on that red-haired girl that if he even imagined life without her, the pain was palpable and physical. As it was now.

He had watched her shudder, and cry in pain, and struggle to breathe, and every gasp of pain and tear had torn through him like a tiny razor blade. Now he was raw, chest aching with tears he had been holding back which now spilled out over his face. They felt alien and wrong, like his body was malfunctioning. But clutching the barely breathing body of the girl he loved more than the rest of the world, he couldn't stop them.

"Jace." a gentle voice near him accompanied that face that swam into the forefront of his vision. It was Alec, his black hair standing out starkly against his face, which was paler than normal and tinged with shock. "Jace, Magnus is here. He needs to look at the… he needs to see her. You need to let go." Jace looked down slowly to realize he was clutching Clary to him, not hard enough to hurt her under normal circumstances, but desperately, his knuckles white and shaking.

"I…" his voice was surprisingly clear, but low with grief. "I can't. I don't think I can."

"Jace, please." replied Alec meekly. "For her."

But before he could attempt to let go, something changed. The faint rhythm of her heartbeat, her shallow breathing, had slowed to a stop. "No," said Jace, voice rising slightly. "NO." She was… she was… she couldn't be.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N This one is another short one, but with a little change of perspective. Alec if probably one of the hardest for me to write from, so apologies if he's a bit rough around the edges. Once again, hang in there. It's not super cheerful._

Chapter 3

ALEC POV

Several feet away from Jace, Alec stopped reaching out for him, sinking to his knees. His arms dangled limply at his sides. Behind him a hand to rest on his shoulder, cold from the outdoors, or perhaps the windblown effect of Portal travel. It was Magnus, having arrived only seconds ago to find this horrible scene playing out before his eyes. His eyes, normally ringed in kohl or glitter, were wide, confused. After staring at the floor for several seconds, Alec rose slowly to his feet, turning to face Magnus and shaking his head once, solemnly.

Magnus' face grew sad, but somehow knowing, and Alec found himself once again remembering exactly how old Magnus actually was- and how many people he'd lost. He seemed to look through Alec momentarily, to where Jace still sat silently weeping. Magnus came back into focus on Alec then, gesturing backwards with a jerk of head to a further alcove of the room. Isabelle had disappeared outside to notify the Clave, Jocelyn, Simon. Alec followed Magnus back numbly, stumbling over a pile of sludge that had once been a Raum demon.

"What _happened_?" asked Magnus, lacking his usual flair and charisma. His face was a shifting mix of concern and confusion and, glancingly, grief. Alec inhaled a deep breath, still stunned, and braced himself to tell the story. He wasn't even fully sure that he understood it, but he would try.

"We were at the Institute when they got the call. Anonymous line, traceless, reported demonic activity in this block. Now- normally we don't trust leads like this." Alec began, knitting his eyebrows together in a frown. His voice was business-like, debriefing. "The Clave has plenty of enemies that would love to lure a few Shadowhunters into the middle of nowhere and do god-knows-what. But the _voice_ on the other end of this line, Magnus. It was… compelling. I can't describe it." Alec stared at his hands, clearing his throat before continuing the story. "It was me, Jace, Izzy, and Clary- she was training, you know- and we decided to check it out. I mean, we took every precaution. Even Clary's been in several demon fights. It's what we do. When we came in, there were a few demons, but nothing we hadn't dealt with before. There were four or five… Raum, Drevak… So I took on one or two, Izzy and Jace too. Clary was fine. I don't… I don't know what happened. Suddenly there was this new demon. Like it had appeared out of nowhere. And if I hadn't already been fighting the two- maybe I could have-" Alec drew in a shuddering breath. Magnus watched with passive concern, reaching out to take his hand.

"Alexander Lightwood." he said firmly. "I'm sure whatever it was that happened, it was _not_ your fault." Alec looked up, nodding halfheartedly. "But I do need to know what happened." He squeezed Alec's hand lightly. Sighing, Alec continued the story.

"This demon… it wasn't one that I've ever seen. I thought it was a Ravener at first, but it was bigger. Darker. Smarter. It came right at Clary, as if she was the entire reason it was there. Maybe she was. I don't _know_. But she started fighting it- I only caught glimpses. That is, until it attacked her. Bit… bit her." Alec rested a hand at his side, almost subconsciously. "We had pretty much finished off the others, so we went to help her. It had… dropped her by then." He winced, but continued. "Jace… well, you know Jace. He was ready to rip this thing to shreds. He was on it immediately. Me and Izzy went to see if Clary was okay. It was bad, Magnus, really bad." he glanced up, eyes shining at the memory. "But nothing we hadn't seen before, to some degree or another. She sent us to go help Jace. Of course she did. And I _listened_ to her." He glanced down, castigating himself mentally. Magnus tipped Alec's chin up gently, nodding at him to continue. "I couldn't let Jace fight that thing alone. Even the three of us were barely a match for it- and we didn't even kill it. Not really. After a few minutes it just- sort of- disappeared. Evaporated. And we didn't have time to worry about where it went. Clary… wasn't doing well, already. I don't know what kind of venom that thing had, but it was fast-acting. I called you, then. You've dealt with this sort of thing. I don't- I thought we'd have more _time_!" His voice rose suddenly then, as if for the first time he fully realized exactly what ending his story had. One where Clary- his best friend and brother's love, his close friend- had died. She was dead. "Jesus, she's dead. She died."

Magnus reached for him then, and he obliged. He hadn't realized he was shivering, but Magnus's arms were warm and comforting. He didn't cry, but he leaned heavily on Magnus for support, as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

"I know, Alexander." Magnus said sadly against his neck. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Yeah, this chapter isn't all that much more cheerful, but it had to be written. So I'll post Chapter 5 at the same time, and we won't end on such a dark note. (note the word "such"). But just a note- if you're... squeamish, there is a dead person in this chapter. Just try to think of it romantically ... it's a stepping stone to a larger plotline. Meh._

Chapter 5

JACE POV

There were people all around him. He knew that. Within fifteen minutes of the calls Isabelle had made, people had begun to trickle into the room, passing by with various sentiments like a viewing*. His fists clenched at the thought. A viewing was too close to reality. First had come the nearest Clave officials, and he'd watched at a distance as Alec and Isabelle told the story in hushed segments, glancing at him when they reached certain phrases like "bitten" or "poison" or… that one. That one that sounded like it belonged on a battlefield, or in his past, nowhere near them today. Dead. Dead, died, dying, and every other iteration of the word had washed over his ears at one point during the story. And it stung him, silently. He knew what that meant, the Clave being there. They were going to take her away from him. As they well should- that was the way things were done. A shadowhunter died fighting a demon- they were taken to the Silent City or the nearest Institute and prepared for their funeral rites. There would be an unembellished ceremony, and they would burn the body. He would wear white- fitting for an angel, she would have said. And his fists clenched again.

He knew that they'd want to take her away before her mother, or Luke, or Simon arrived, if they'd even been notified. But somehow, while he still kept her warm in his arms, he could pretend she was just sleeping, like the night he left her in Idris. He hadn't known then if he was ever going to see her again. Now he knew. And the thought of her never rising, green eyes never opening, mouth never smiling, make his heart clench like someone was crushing it in their fist.

People drifted over to him and said words at him, and on some level, he heard and understood them. But the majority of his mind was consumed by a constant, white noise-like pain, psychological pain, that he was either unready or unwilling to deal with. So when they approached him, he just shook his head and looked down until Alec led them away. He had waited too long, he knew, holding onto her. Because now he was fairly certain that when she was taken away from him, he might actually shatter. Like she was the one little element binding him together, and when she was gone, he would topple like a felled Jenga puzzle. A vague memory flashed in his mind of Clary attempting to teach him the joy of board games. He had heartily rejected Simon's offer of Settlers of Catan, been bored by Monopoly, and failed to see the point of trying to keep the tower intact in Jenga, repeatedly knocking it over just for fun, much to Clary's dismay and amusement.

Suddenly, it was too much. The collision of this moving, breathing, light-filled person from his memory and this unmoving, cooling body in his arms was too much. He knew what he had to do. With as much grace as he'd had at his most stable, he rose from the dusty corner where he'd been sitting and, after leaning down to touch her face one more time, walked across the suddenly hushed room. Quickly, he found the faces he was looking for. Clustered several feet away from the Clave members were Alec, Isabelle, and Magnus, all of whom traced his approach with faked apathy. Isabelle's makeup was smudged in several places, and Alec was pale and sickly looking. Even Magnus looked vaguely unwell, running a hand through his hair repeatedly.

He approached them gingerly, like he was walking over broken glass. Clearing his throat, he spoke for the first time in several minutes.

"I'd like to go home." Jace said, and the other three noted, heartbreakingly, that he sounded like the very small child they had never known him to be- the secret homesick child who had been taught not to love.

And together the four of them walked home in silence.

(* also a viewing, if you didn't know, is part of a funeral, where people see the body and whatnot. Ick. )


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: If you're reading this, you hung in there. Thanks. This chapter doesn't need much of an introduction, but we're on our way to the happier stuff. Yayy._

Chapter 5

CLARY POV

This darkness wasn't unpleasant. As a child, during her sleepovers with Simon, she'd never needed a nightlight like she had during the rest of the week. His presence, another warm body in the bed, had been enough to convince her the dark wasn't her enemy. She'd found that peace with Jace, in Idris. And now she found it again, in this floating darkness which surrounded her.

It was warm, like Jace's arms around her, she thought with a pang. Jace's face flashed against the darkness briefly, as if that much light didn't belong in a place like this.

But before she really had time to ponder it, the darkness began to shift around her. Suddenly, she wasn't floating, she was sinking. It was as if she had been sunbathing on the edge of a lake, and she was now being dragged underwater. She became suddenly and painfully aware of the fact that she was not breathing. Her lungs protested. But it was like there was a pressure, pushing her down further into the water, and keeping her from opening her mouth. Then , suddenly it was gone.

Sitting up with a tremendous gasp, Clary's eyes opened to a vaguely familiar scene. At first she was blinded by the sudden influx of light. Then, slowly, as her eyes adjusted, she found herself inside of a room. Wooden arches trailed upwards towards a high ceiling full of murals. She realized with surprise that she knew where she was. She'd been here before. Hell, she'd pulled this exact stunt before- wake up in recovery from a demon-fighting injury. _But…_ Scenes from the fight played out behind her eyelids rapidly- the demon appearing and disappearing, the bite, Jace whispering through tears that he loved her. She winced, not just at the memory of the injury, but the pain in his voice as she faded away. Serious didn't even begin to describe it- that injury had been deadly.

So how had she woken up?

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who wondered that.

Across the room stood a handful of very-shocked looking people. A woman who Clary instantly recognized as Maryse Lightwood was the first she noticed. She held a shaking hand to her mouth as she made eye contact with Clary. The only other occupants of the room were two Silent Brothers. She could hear the mental equivalent of their gasps of shock- and not much shocked a Silent Brother. Instantly, she felt them prodding at her mind, and she winced. It was too much, too fast. Their semi-formed whispers overlapped cacophonously in her mind. She caught several words but never a full sentence- demon, poison, and a lot of question words- what, why, how long. It was Maryse who finally offered a distinct sentence.

"Clary?" she said quietly, cautiously. "Is that you?" Maryse was the head of an Institute, and not just any Institute, but the Institute of one of the most populous and busy cities in the world. She had fought in battles, lost a child, and even faced the Clave for punishment after Valentine's uprising. She was not the kind of woman who wasted time being hesitant or fearful, and her voice did not shake. But her face was pale, her hair stretched haphazardly into a tight bun. She took one step towards Clary, then two steps back.

"Is Jace okay?" The words seemed to bubble up out of her mouth against her will, coming out a bit harshly through her paper-dry throat. For a moment, the prodding in her head stopped as if the Brothers were holding their breath. Then they retracted, and nodded at Maryse.

"Oh, god, Clary. Oh, my god, it's really you." she rushed over to the bedside, sitting tentatively on the bed opposite her. Clary frowned _. "Really you."_ she thought. _As opposed to who?_

 _As opposed to a dead body, or a demon._ Thought the Silent Brother in her head. She didn't recognize his presence, so they mustn't have met. But she could sense his hesitance, as if he were still unsure he should be talking to her.

Clary pushed herself up to a more elevated position, surprised at the ease with which she found herself able to- or at least lack of pain. Her hand flew to her side. She found that she was no longer wearing her torn gear jacket or pants, but a clean T-shirt and the loose cotton pants he normally associated with training exercises. Lifting up the side of her shirt, she suppressed a gasp. The wound wasn't gone, by any means, but it was healing as if someone had put an _iratze_ on it.

"What's happening?" she said rapidly. Seeing their confusion, she amended her question slightly. "What _happened_?"

"Clary…" Maryse began softly, unsure what exactly to say. "You died."

"I don't… I'm not… I don't understand." Clary whispered, drawing her knees back against her chest. Her wound protested the change in position, but she ignored it. Maryse continued.

"You were in a battle with a demon. We still don't know what kind of demon, but it was poisonous. You were attacked. Bitten. And we got there as soon as would could, but by the time Magnus had reached you, you were already gone." She leaned forward slightly, concern knitting her brows together. "You stopped breathing, Your heart stopped beating."

"No," Clary interrupted. Maryse ignored her.

"They wanted to take you to the Silent City for observation. The demon that killed you- it was concerning. Even demon venom tends not to kill that quickly. And Alec said that they hadn't even really killed it- it just disappeared-"

"Oh god… Alec? Isabelle? They're okay?" a new thought sparked in her mind, blossoming painfully against her will. "They think I'm dead. Jace- he thinks I'm _dead_?"

Maryse didn't respond, but her eyes grew distant and sad, as if recalling a painful memory.

"I need to see him. You need to tell them, Maryse!" Clary's voice increased in pitch with a rising hysteria. The Silent Brothers in the back of room took a step forward threateningly, as if warning her to keep her voice down. Beginning to hyperventilate, she turned back to Maryse, who waited for her to calm down before responding.

"This state…" she began cautiously. "We're just not sure if it's… permanent. And we don't want to make them go through anything… unnecessary. Do you understand?"

Clary sank back into the pillows, deflating. All the manic energy of the moment before had left her body. "You think I'm going to die again, don't you? You don't want them to get their hopes up."

Maryse winced slightly at the word 'again', but shook her head. "It's...unlikely." she said. "Whatever effect the demon poison had seems to have worn off. But there's a small chance that the effects will come back, that this is just an aberration. And if that's the truth, it's only going to make the second time that much worse." She was businesslike in her explanation, and Clary nodded along.

"Maryse… if it's true that I'm going to die again- and I know how selfish this sounds- I need to see him. Whatever time I have, I need to spend with him. And my mom, and Simon, Luke, and Alec and Izzy. I… I need a chance to say goodbye." Clary responded, picking at the blanket covering her. Maryse leaned back as if actually considering her plea. Then , defeatedly, she nodded. Oddly, Clary felt no rush of victory. Just, a slow, churning emptiness. But Maryse interrupted her thoughts with a condition.

"I have to let the Silent Brothers examine you. It will take fifteen, twenty minutes most. I'll go explain the situation to the others. If they deem you visitor ready, they can visit. But Clary…" she trailed off, her voice taking a warning tone. "If you prove to be a threat, I won't hesitate to do what's best for everyone. You must know that." Clary nodded solemnly, fists shaking with anticipation as Maryse receded towards the door. She turned then to speak to the Silent Brothers.

"You might want to rune the door to only open from the inside- once he finds out she's alive, Jace will tear down the walls to see her." Clary's heart constricted, and all too soon, Maryse was gone.

 _Shall we begin?_ A voice, non-threatening, but ominous enough to make her shiver, prodded at the inside of her mind. Sighing, she closed her eyes and braced herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

JACE POV

Jace stared across the room, silently thankful for it's obsessive cleanliness. There was very little here to remind him of her. All he could see was the white blankness of the walls, and the gray asphalt of the street outside his window. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of color, but he tried to ignore them. All he wanted was blankness. He wanted blank walls, and he wanted a blank mind to try to escape this overwhelming pain.

Clary didn't really like to talk about the time when he had been dead. For one thing, it was brief, and she had saved his life. But he thought it was also painful for her to remember. And now he knew why. Even so soon after it had happened, he felt her absence like a gaping black hole, slowly swallowing him, crushing him in it's extreme gravity. He was aware that he had changed his clothes, running on autopilot, and that just outside of the corner of his vision in the rubbish bin he had stuffed his abused gear. Some of it had been melted by poison, but the majority of it had only been stained. Stained with her blood, though. The thought made him sick, and he swallowed, the lump in his throat becoming painful.

In a twisted way, he almost wished he'd sustained more injuries. It would have given him something to focus on, to take his mind off this psychological torture. But he'd landed with cuts and bruises, and Clary had…

He jumped up to pace the room, the stillness suddenly driving him mad. Emotion was overwhelming him, despite all of his careful training to smother it. He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing that would ever possibly extinguish this uneasing grief. Sinking to his knees, he ran a hand through his hair, a little too strongly, leaving it partially upright with golden loops and curls. He was shaking all over, and though the tears had stopped falling, he was certain he'd never truly stopped crying. Defeated, he crawled over to the spot of color that stood out like an out of place puzzle piece in his orderly room. It was a photograph, taped carefully to the wall, of him and Clary. Even in two dimensions, her beauty took his breath away in a way no one else ever had. He'd grown up his whole life wielding his attractiveness like nothing more than another weapon he could use. She had always been so completely and stunningly unaware of her own, somehow managing to impress him in sweaters and jeans. And he had loved her. Oh, how he loved her. You could even see it the photograph, his eyes gleaming when he looked at her, his smile genuine. But to stare at her wild red hair, her sparkling green eyes, was nothing short of torture now. Still, he clutched the photograph, unable to tear his eyes away from it, allowing his heart to be rended apart completely. A portion of the photograph suddenly became blurry, and he touched it with confusion before realizing what it was. A tear. He was crying again. In another life, he would have been embarrassed at all the tears he'd shed that day. But he was seemingly numb to any emotion other than grief and pain.

A soft knock at the door sparked his attention. It was Alec and Isabelle, and they entered the room before he had time to protest. Remembering the tears on his face, it was all he could do to lift the photograph in explanation.

Alec nodded and gently pried the photo from his hands- Jace hadn't realized he's been slowly crumpling it into a ball by accident. He only nodded- he wasn't ready to speak yet. Evidently, however, they were.

"Jace…" Isabelle began. Her voice was low. "I don't even know how to begin. I just… we're here for you. You know that. Whatever we can do." She glanced over at Alec, nudging him to continue. For similar as Jace and Isabelle had always been, Alec had a way with words. He could be clever, or biting, or in this case comforting if he needed to be. And right now, he needed to be. But staring at the pain carved into his best friend's hollow expression, he found himself struggling to speak. Instead, he simply sat down next to him, and Isabelle followed suit. Together they circled him in warmth, all staring at the wall together. And slowly, very slowly, his shaking began to ease.

After several minutes, Jace cleared his throat, certain that he wanted to say something, but totally lost on what. But he would never have the chance to find out.

At that second, the door of the room swung open, revealing Maryse, with Magnus trailing several feet behind her. Alec rose quickly to protest the intrusion, but Maryse made a hand gesture to cut him off. Jace only sunk back further against the wall. He wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but he was almost entirely sure it would roll off him like rain on a window pane.

Nothing could possibly have prepared him for what Maryse was about to say.

"She's awake." Maryse said abruptly, looking like she'd seen a ghost, or something more unravelling. "Clary is awake- or alive- and she's healing."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Bwa ha ha, every author loves a good cliffhanger.  
On a side note, thank you so much to everyone who's been reviewing! It just warms my little heart to know people are interested :) Seriously, it's awesome. And I shall reward you...(*cough* Clace *cough* so much Clace)  
Now, back to chapter 7, AKA further evidence of my love affair with adverbs...

Chapter 7

JACE POV cont.

Jace rose almost reflexively to his feet, glancing from Maryse to the wide-eyed Magnus and back repeatedly without fully comprehending. His jaw was set, and his hands were clenched into fists. "If this is some kind of sick joke… " he said in a deadly whisper, trailing off ominously. But even his racing mind couldn't comprehend a possible reason why Maryse would lie to him about something like this- unless this was some kind of grief induced vision. A tiny crack appeared in the ice which had filled his veins. And with it, all the hostility melted from his face, replaced with a puerile vulnerability. "I need to see her," he said tonelessly, already moving to push past Maryse and Magnus, mind locked on the image of his Clary breathing, awake.

Unsurprisingly, but still rather annoyingly, Maryse caught his shoulder, gently stopping him in the doorframe. "There are a lot of factors we don't fully understand at play here, Jace. The demon she was fighting disappeared without a trace, and before we were able to identify it. And there was the fact that it's entirely possible that this was some kind of set-up, given the anonymous call. Not to mention she was _dead_ , Jace. Not just unconscious, but properly dead. You felt her heart stop." Jace flinched away from her touch at the memory. Maryse continued regardless. "We just don't know what happened, and if it will happen again. We're not even sure if she'll stay this way, or for how long. The Silent Brothers are in there with her now, they're examining her to see if there's any immediate threat." She didn't say to who. "When they clear her, you can go see her." Jace shuddered, imagining not just Clary alone in that room, being mentally scourged by Silent Brothers, but Clary waking up, confused and probably in pain, and him being nowhere in sight.

"Maryse." he said softly, not turning to face her. "I _need_ to see her."

Mayrse managed to catch his eye. "I know," she said. "And I'm sorry." Then she turned, and disappeared back down the hall into her office, probably to make calls to the Clave, leaving a very lost Jace to stare panickedly at Alec, Isabelle, and Magnus. Their eyes were as wide as his likely were, but he met them for only a second.

Then he turned soundlessly and ran towards the Infirmary.

...

Jace had thought that the the emptiness he'd felt after Clary's death was torturous. And it had been. But this waiting, this slow miserable waiting, might actually drive him insane. After several fruitless minutes of pounding on the door, even attempting to use an "Open" rune, he'd come to the conclusion that they'd runed the door shut. And what was worse, they'd closed off the room entirely, for privacy, so that even his Shadowhunter ears couldn't pick up on any sound from the inside. Not a heartbeat or a whisper. That was all he really needed- a heartbeat. Some indication that she was there. That she was still alive. Every second that passed in silence was more than he could handle. He'd tried pacing, practicing flips, and even hitting his head repeatedly against the wall. Nothing helped. He still felt every moment pass by with hideous longevity.

Currently, he sat on the floor, back resting against the wall which the hallway shared with the Infirmary. He wasn't sure where she was in the room, or even if she was in one of the beds against that wall, but it felt like his best chance to be close to her. All the while, in the Infirmary, the Silent Brothers were prodding and slicing at her mind, seeking any malevolent presence, any indication of what _exactly_ had happened. He diverted his attention quickly, picking at the plaster of the wall where it met the dark moulding of the wood. If Maryse had seen him, see would have lost it. And he just didn't care.

The silence stretched on.

Alec and Isabelle and Magnus appeared at the end of the hallway, hovering.

And on.

Mayrse stopped by to speak to Magnus in a hushed voice.

And on.

The information trickled down to him that Luke and Jocelyn had been at the farm, preparing for the wedding. They were coming back as quickly as they could, but it would be a couple hours.

And on.

Until finally, the handle of the door turned with a slow _click_.

Jace jolted to his feet, almost exactly like when Mayrse had entered his room what felt like an eternity ago. A Silent Brother hovered in the door frame, clearly still barring his entrance. A second Brother trailed behind him. He turned to look at Jace, though he could tell he was addressing all of them.

 _We have no reason to believe her condition will worsen._ He said, and Jace didn't even allow himself to feel relief. He just needed to get into that room. _However_ \- the Silent Brother began, and Jace felt his heart sink- _We still don't know what happened. We're not in the clear yet, and we will be back periodically to monitor her. But for now, you may visit her_.

He hadn't even stepped aside and Jace was already past him, hearing the door close behind him. He could feel his heart beating in his throat as his eyes scraped the room. There she was- in a bed against the wall he had been leaning against. She looked, as she often did, very small and very still. For a moment he was frozen, gripped in the memory of her becoming still in his arms not long ago. As long as he would live, he would never forget the way that had torn him apart. But then she turned, sitting up slowly, shattering the icy stillness of the room. She looked tired, and pale with pain, but for once Jace wasn't prepared to be gentle with her. Her eyes widened when she saw Jace, and he crossed the room in three wide steps.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Clace! Clace! Clace!_  
 _You're in for it, kiddos._  
 _I apologize if any of the dialogue is... unrealistic? It's not my strong suit._  
 _Thank you to all y'all still following, I'm working out a couple kinks with the plot, but that's several chapters in the future, no need to worry._  
 _Enjoy, and feel free to tell me what you think :)_

Chapter 8

CLARY POV

For a moment, he took her in, assessing her injuries. "Jace." she began, unsure of what else to say, struggling into a sitting position against the bed frame. Before she could continue, he had closed the distance between them, sweeping her into his arms in one fluid motion as only Jace could. Clary shivered, but not from the chill of the air. Jace's arms around her were deliciously warm, burning away the icy pit she'd had in her stomach ever since waking up. And he kissed her, and the fire spread.

The kiss began slow, aching, and Clary could sense the pain behind it. This was a kiss where he had thought there would be no more. This was a kiss of reunion. "Clary…" he whispered. "I love you so, so much."

Surprised, Clary felt a drop of warm wetness catch between their cheeks. Her heart contracted. He was crying. It was rare, even with her, that he should be so open about his emotion, but he seemed unable to stop himself. "Jace…" she whispered, pulling away slightly. "I'm so sorry."

Jace didn't respond, only gapped the slight distance she had created between them with growing urgency. The kiss grew hungrier, like Jace wanted nothing more than for them to be able to morph into one, to never be apart again. He lay her down on the bed, trapping her in his arms, pressing his body against hers. Clary did her best to mask a flinch as he pressed against her wound, but Jace picked up on it in the way that only Jace could. Stilling with eerie calm, he froze against her, drawing back to the edge of the bed. She felt his fingers moving under the hem of her shirt, but his face wasn't hungry, it was businesslike, if not slightly pained. She watched him lift the edge of shirt on the side he clearly remembered she'd been bitten. She could still see the track of a tear on his cheek, though no more fell.

He inhaled sharply when he saw how much the wound had healed. The edges had smoothed out, leaving behind what looked more like deep cuts than puncture wounds. It was even more healed then the last time Clary herself had checked. But still, it hurt, having damaged not just her skin, but scraped her bones and caused internal bleeding. Each tooth mark was surrounded by a blossom of bruising which could have been described as beautiful if it weren't so grotesque, coloring her pale skin. Jace just stared down at it, speechless. She wondered what he was thinking about- how fast it had healed, or watching her recieve it.

"It doesn't really hurt," she began, trying to decode his silence. "They gave me a rune for pain when I first… woke up." Silently, she cursed herself for mentioning it. He still refused to meet her eyes. Then, very slowly, he leaned down and kissed her, sweetly, lightly, on the wound, reaching up to entwine his hand with hers.

"Please come back," she said very quietly. He met her eyes finally, and his burned with an unanticipated intensity. But still he climbed gently into the bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her, drawing her to his side. Clary could feel his heart beating rapidly under her fingertips, his breathing was quick. Surrounded by the comfort and safety of his arms, Clary could feel herself begin to drift off to sleep, exhausted from the drama of the day and even the Silent Brother's investigations.

"What was it like?" his question surprised her, he had been so taciturn until then. She couldn't turn and look at him in the circle of his arms, so she took one of his hands instead, tracing the scars running along it at all angles. Silver and gold, she mused, the scars and the skin.

"Jace, we don't have to talk about it." she said finally.

"But I need to know." There was a quiet gravity behind his words that compelled her to speak. She drew in a shuddering breath, perhaps a preface of tears to come, and began.

"Well, I remember the fight. I remember being injured, I remember you holding me… and telling me you loved me." Her breathing hitched infinitessimally- tears would only make this worse. For both of them. She swallowed, and continued. "Then, it was dark. I know it's cliche, but that was really all it was. Dark, and warm, like a summer night. I was drifting- almost peaceful, you know? But then all of the sudden, I was drowning. Like being pulled underwater. I felt the need to breath, again, but I couldn't. It was dark, and I couldn't breath. And then I thought of _you_." She felt his chest rise rapidly beside her, but persisted. "You were just… too much light for all that darkness. And suddenly, there was light. And air, and sound. And several very confused Silent Brothers." She turned to him, smiling, but found him looking at her strangely, eyes low and burning like the embers of a fire.

"Clary…" he began, moving his face closer to hers. "What it was like, to hold you in my arms, and watch you die… totally helpless, totally useless, totally alone… to think that that one kiss would be our last, that one sentence the last thing you would ever say to me… I can't describe it. I'll live my entire life with you and never forget it. It tore me apart." he paused, pressing his eyes closed. "I love you more than you could possibly imagine. I realized, in that time, that it is impossible for me to face a single day without you, much less a lifetime. So whatever the hell it is that brought you back to me, I don't care. But, by the Angel, I will _earn_ this second chance. Just… promise me you'll never leave me again. Promise me that."

His eye burst open again then, sparkling with unshed tears. Clary was certain she'd never seen anything more beautiful. The artist in her longed for paints, colored pencils, anything to capture them forever, but realistically, she knew she never could. Something so burning and bright and alive could never be captured in two dimensions. She realized then that he was waiting for a response. And she knew it went against reasonable thought, to promise something like that. Especially when her life was what it was- bloodshed and battle and demons. But something in the desperation in his voice, the fire in his eyes, told her that reasonable thought wasn't necessary here. She would never love anyone else, certainly not in the way she loved him, and besides, she never wanted to. So it was easy enough for her to say-

"I promise."

And then, she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, bringing their mouths together for one brief, burning kiss, and then burying her face in his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent- black pepper, citrus, soap, sweat, and something distinctly masculine and very Jace running under it all. She hadn't even stopped to think about it, but she had missed him, even as she was dying and in the darkness that followed. Her hands shook slightly, and she felt the tears bubble up, uninvited, and begin to spill out. She felt vaguely guilty about soaking the shoulder of Jace's shirt, and pulled back, sniffling pathetically, and laughed faintly.

"Sorry… I should go get tissues." she murmured indistinctly, but she was unsurprised when his arms tightened around her, locking her in place.

"Tears or no tears," he said, voice rumbling softly against her back. "I don't intend to let go of you for quite a while." A hint of the old playboy Jace was woven into his voice, and she grinned against him, the tears shining on her cheeks becoming joyful.

"So you'll stay?" she whispered, fading quickly into sleep. "You promise?"

Now it was his turn to smile. "I promise." he whispered back, kissing the top of her head and loosing one of his hands to run through her hair. And they fell asleep like that- warm, and exhausted, and together.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hi, guys. Remember me? I didn't die, I swear. We're about two weeks from the end of the semester here, which means things are absolutely bananas for the moment. But I haven't forgotten you!_  
 _Happy Memorial Day, if you live somewhere where they celebrate Memorial Day. It's been claimed that the town near where I live actually created the tradition of Memorial Day, so we kind of take it seriously. Like, parade, carnival, street fair, the works. But that's neither here nor there._  
 _I have big plans for this fic still, so fear not. This chapter is basically entirely Malec fluff (you've been warned), so if that's not you're thing, you can skip to the next chapter without missing any major plot details. I feel as if I should post two today anyway, because I took that little vacation._  
 _Anyway, thanks to those who are sticking around and enjoy!_

Chapter 9

ALEC POV

Alec closed the door to the Infirmary behind him, shaking his head at the two faces outside. They had waited, giving Jace and Clary their space, before going in, but now it seemed they had waited too long. A bizarrely touching tableau had met Alec's eyes upon entering the room- both of them sound asleep, in the early evening, in Clary's narrow hospital bed, a warm mess of limbs and blankets. And he couldn't bring himself to wake them, although he wanted to speak to them both. He could do it in the morning. And besides, he didn't blame them for falling asleep. Both emotionally and psychically, he was exhausted. Probably a side effect of battling several demons, losing a close friend, and gaining that same friend back all in the same day.

Turning to lead the others down the hallway, he felt as if each step was grinding him into the floor itself. Now that the adrenaline of the situation was wearing off, as well as his battle runes for strength and stamina, he felt exhaustion coming on fast.

"Magnus-" he turned to address his boyfriend, but found him missing. Isabelle was gone as well, presumably to bed. The day had taken just as much of a toll on her as it had on him. Maybe Magnus had gone home as well. Alec couldn't blame him- all he'd done was wait around all day in case they needed him- and the time of the High Warlock of Brooklyn was valuable. Too valuable to have been spent anxiously holding hands with Alec as they walked Jace back to the Institute, or watching Alec pace outside of the infirmary. Alec deflated. He'd probably gone home. And he knew that it didn't really make sense, but he'd hoped-

"Alec?" a voice called to him from further down the hallway. Magnus. Immediately, Alec straightened up, hurrying down the hallway to find the source of the voice. He picked his way past the staircase, taking a left towards the hallway that held their bedrooms. Not surprisingly, he found Magnus inside of his. He was staring up at the smattering of artifacts on Alec's shelves. His room was not meticulously neat like Jace's, nor was it as chaotic as Isabelle's. It was very… Alec.

"Magnus. You disappeared." Alec said, allowing a little bit of his relief to leak into his voice.

Magnus turned, his expression unreadable.

"I'm a warlock. We do that." His voice held traces of humor, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Magic?"

"Side door."

Now it was Alec's turn to grin, but he didn't have the energy. Instead, he collapsed against the bed, pulling a surprised Magnus down with him. Magnus didn't protest, but sat up, resting Alec's head on his lap. Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers through Alec's dark hair, drawing it up out of his eyes. His cat's eyes glittered distantly. never quite meeting Alec's. Alec pulled himself up into a sitting position next to him.

"What's the matter?" He asked quietly, focusing his eyes on Magnus's fingers, entwined with his. He could feel Magnus pulling away from him, as he always did when he didn't want to share something.

"Nothing," he said, but before Alec could protest, he extenuated. "At least, it should be nothing." Alec met his eyes curiously, unsure of where he was going. Magnus sighed. "Alexander, I'm immortal." Alec's gaze turned from one of curiosity to one of cold apprehension.

"I'm aware." he said flatly, but Magnus continued.

"I've known thousands of people who've died. Werewolves, shadowhunters, even other warlocks. And I'm not saying I'm numb to it, it's just… I've also seen a thousand different reactions to death. All the stages- bargaining, denial, whatever. But Jace today- when he thought Clary was dead- he just became… purposeless. Like he lost the will to live entirely, like he had nothing left to live for. And I know, maybe, with you and Isabelle, he could have gotten over it eventually. But never truly. He would always be empty inside. Half of a whole. And I worry, because…" Magnus trailed off, lifting his hand to Alec's face. "Because that's the way that I love you. Entirely."

"Magnus-" Alec interrupted, but was cut off.

"The difference is, for them, this was an accident. A horrible twist of circumstance. They were supposed to grow old together. Have children. For us it's an inevitability- that one day, whether it's in twenty years or eighty, you're going to die, and I'm going to be alone, and broken." His eyes burned cold into Alec's, and he released his face. "That's what is the matter." He turned, sitting at the edge of the bed, preparing as if to leave.

"Stop." Alec said softly, reaching out to tug Magnus back onto the bed. Magnus ignored his pull, but turned to face him. "I know. Everything that you've said is true and I know that. But we've always known that. So if you weigh this relationship and decide it's not worth the heartbreak, then you're free to go. I won't stop you. But you may _not_ use what happened today as an excuse to pull away from me, do you understand? I… I need you." Alec drew in a breath. "I want you to stay." It was so vulnerable, that one statement. His instincts had fought him, telling him not to say it. But he had ignored them. And now his cards were on the table, and Magnus was silent.

"You want me to stay, or you need me to stay?" Magnus replied. "In case something goes wrong and you need your speed-dial warlock?" Under normal circumstances, Alec would have flinched at the words, but he could sense the hollowness behind them. Instead, he moved closer to Magnus, their faces inches apart in the dimly lit bedroom.

"I need you to stay." he said quietly. "But not because you're a warlock. Because you're Magnus and I love you, and I'm exhausted and I don't want you to go." And he closed the distance between them, pulling Magnus in for a sweet, growingly familiar kiss. Magnus softened finally, wrapping his arms around Alec.

"Then," he murmured against Alec's mouth. "I'll stay."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I shan't say much, I left kind of a long note on chapter 9. But enjoy- this chapter teases the larger conflict of the story. Poor Clary, can't seem to catch a break. That's all I'll say for now._

Chapter 10

CLARY POV

Clary was flat on her back on the floor of the warehouse. She was shivering all over- it was cold, colder than she'd remembered it being even earlier that day. Dust and what felt like snow drifted on the floor next to her with the breeze- a breeze that felt like it originated somewhere nearby. Sitting up, she felt her whole body flash-freeze, like someone had replaced the blood in her veins with ice. A demon towered overtop of her, black and hulking and terrible. Not _a_ demon, she corrected herself. _The_ demon. The cold air in the room seemed to be centered around it, like it was some kind of polar vortex. Clary's heart rate increased, memories of earlier that day flashing back to her in rapid succession. Her being bitten, the blackout, the brightness that brought her back and Jace, Jace throughout all of it.

But it was too lucid, too real. She remembered them as just that- memories. She knew she wasn't in the warehouse. She knew that this demon wasn't real.

 _Well yes. And no._ A voice, clearly emanating from the demon, rose up in her mind. It communicated like the Silent Brothers did, mental but distinct, and this voice sent shards of ice down her spine, like a cacophony of fingernails scraping glass. Clary clapped her hands over her ears irrationally to block it out, but the demon only laughed. If it was possible, this sound was even worse than the last- a loud, concentrated burst of mental dissonance. _Yes, you are not in the warehouse. But no, I assure you, I am quite real_.

Fighting off a wave of nausea, Clary stood up. "You're a dream." she said, with courage she hadn't known she'd possessed. She felt like a young child, doing a stranger danger drill in school. ' _No, I won't get in your van with you, even if you have candy and puppies. Good day, sir.'_

"You're a dream and nothing more."

The demon just laughed again, and Clary gritted her teeth, wincing. _If I'm just a dream, how can I do… this_? And the demon surged upon her, reaching out one large claw before she react. With the speed and deadly sharpness of a singing blade, the claw sliced through the front of Clary's shirt, carving a long thin line in her stomach. The cut immediately welled up with blood, staining through her shirt. Clary cried out, but fruitlessly.

 _Goodbye, Clarissa Morgenstern._ The demon cackled as it surged up before her. _We'll meet again_.

And then she screamed as it engulfed her in blackness.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Sorry, kind of a short update today. I may post another chapter later this evening if I have the time. Things are beginning to get interesting... Well, as an author, I'd hope they were already kind of interesting, actually. Alright, enjoy._

Chapter 11 

JACE POV

"Clary!" he shouted urgently, turning to face her directly. She didn't wake up. It had been the shivering which had awoken him, thinking that he'd tossed the blankets off somehow. But they were both covered in blankets up their shoulders, so he'd known something was her heart rate had begun to increase, and she had broken out into a cold sweat as if she had a fever. Nightmares, he thought. It had to be nightmares. Any other possibility was inexplorably painful. So he had set about waking her up. Then the screaming began.

"Clary, please!" he shouted, shaking her shoulders gently but urgently. "Wake up. You're having a nightmare." And suddenly, she woke with a gasp, calling out his name, breathing panicked as she took in the sheer darkness of the room. It was the middle of the night, but Jace's Shadowhunter eyes had adjusted with catlike nightvision. Clary's would have soon followed, but he spared her the wait time by grabbing his witchlight off the nightstand.

"Clary?" he asked quietly as the light illuminated her face, blinding him and throwing sharp edges on all the objects in the room. Clary's hair was shining and wild in the white light, her eyes wide and unfocused. "It was just a nightmare."

"Jace." the word was a sob of relief, and she collapsed against him. Then, with an odd stillness, she froze, and sat back up. "Jace?" This time it was a question, and he looked on in subdued horror as she reached under the covers to lay a hand on her stomach. It came back red.

With a leap, Jace switched on the lights, then flew back to Clary, tossing off the covers to inspect her. Immediately, his heart sank. It was not, as he had suspected, a reopening of her old bite wound, but rather an entirely new wound, running vertically from her ribcage to her navel. A wound which she had received _since they'd gone to bed that night_.

"Clary," he breathed, "what the hell happened?" Clary sat up as if to explain, but blood only soaked further along the gash in the T-shirt. She winced. With gentle force, he shoved her back down onto the bed. After quickly rummaging through the bedside drawer for a stele, he sketched an _iratze_ in between her fading bite mark scars and the newly formed gash along her abdomen. Thankfully, it took, and began fading immediately, the blood flow from the wound staunching rapidly. Jace exhaled. Clary was propped up delicately against a pillow, seemingly trying not to move and cause any further damage. Seeing her in so much pain, twice in a row, it made him ill. Clearly, however, the healing rune was going it's job, and color was returning to Clary's cheeks, though the shell shocked look remained. Now that the initial panic of the injury was gone, Jace looked equal parts relieved and completely frenzied.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Did I say later this evening? Because, surprise (!) I meant like an hour after the last chapter. Hopefully now my garbage summary is beginning to make a bit more sense... :D A little more Clace (because there's always room for a little more Clace)_

Chapter 12

CLARY POV

"What," he began, voice low and deadly, with an edge of raw concern, "happened." He scanned the room, almost hopeful. "Do I have to stab someone?" Coming from anyone else's boyfriend than Clary's this would seem like a joke. But Jace had fire in his eyes, which said that whoever had cut her wasn't going to get a strike two. She shivered. She was freezing, even in the bed with the blankets pulled around her like a cocoon. She tried to ignore the fact that she was probably dirtying them with her blood- it was too late for such concerns. The cut, while not particularly deep, had certainly served it's purpose. For the first time since she had been attacked by the demon, she was scared. Terrified. And she wasn't even sure how to explain it.

"Stabbing someone would be a bit counterproductive," she said, intending her voice to sound casual, but failing and landing on forced. "seeing as I'm the problem." Jace's eyes darkened, and he moved back over to the bed, resting on the end of it, eyes drawn to the red splotches in several places. He didn't really calm down, only seemed to center his chaos, and his eyes still burned as he gazed back at her questioningly.

Clary sighed, and glanced down at her stomach before continuing. The angry wound had faded into a shallow cut, but still stung as she sat up slightly. Unlike her dream, the fabric of her shirt hadn't been ripped, only streaked with blood where it had bled through. She longed to shed it, to fall back asleep in Jace's arms, but she knew she wouldn't be sleeping peacefully for a long time. Jace was still staring bleakly at her when she glanced back up, his mouth carefully closed. A muscle jumped in his neck, and he seemed almost perched on the edge of the bed, balanced delicately as if ready to take flight if necessary. But he had stopped searching the room for threats and began silently examining her. As the seconds passed, his eyebrows knit together.

"I was having this… dream. A nightmare. I was back in that warehouse, with that demon. But it didn't feel like a nightmare, Jace. I remembered the fight earlier that day, I remembered waking up, and I remembered falling asleep. And just as I was thinking that- that it was a dream, it wasn't real- the demon spoke to me. In my mind, like a Silent Brother," she swallowed, shuddering slightly at the memory of the demon's voice, cold and grating in her mind.

"And none of this is totally outside of the realm of possibility for a nightmare, I know. But he said that he _was_ real, and he could prove it to me. And he reached out, and he… cut me, on the stomach." Jace's eyes darkened with growing realization.

Clary cleared her throat once more, her voice coming out quite small against her will.

"And he said we'd meet again."

Jace sat frozen for a moment, as if concentrating. Then he hung his head, and Clary remembered for a moment that despite all his stamina and his strength, he was exhausted. Drained. From the demon battle, and from the emotions that he fought with constantly. Her heart contracted, knowing that the dark circles under his eyes were because of her. If she could, she would let him sleep until morning. But she knew that he wouldn't rest until they figured out what was wrong with her. Her warrior. Her Jace.

 _But how do you fight a nightmare?_ Clary thought hopelessly, and she knew Jace's mind was in the same place. Knowing it would prove fruitless, she reached out, caressing his face and pleading, lifting his eyes to hers.

"You could go back to sleep," she whispered. "We could deal with this in the morning. Please, you're exhausted."

Jace's eyes grew colder, and he huffed a short laugh. "You think I'm exhausted." he muttered flatly. "And you died today."

"They say it's a lot like falling asleep." Clary replied, trying to lighten things up. But seeing the way he flinched when she said it, her tone grew more serious. "Jace. Whatever it is, there's nothing you can do right now, so please get some sleep."

Jace seemed to be shaking slightly. "I know there's nothing I can do." he said, voice tremoring quietly. "I'm just so _sick_ of not being able to do anything. Sitting here while you get hurt, and being unable to help you." Clary inched forward, taking his face in both of her hands, and he let her, closing his eyes. His skin was warm, warmer than her hands, but he didn't flinch at the contact. "I'm not sure if I can take much more of it. It's torture." And this, too, was torture, the same torture, because there was nothing she could say to comfort him, no apology he would accept.

He opened his eyes then, taking her hands in his. "And I know what you're going to say, so don't even try to apologize. This isn't in any way your fault. I just wish it wasn't happening." he sighed, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Time to find Magnus." he stated, matter of factly, all evidence of his recent vulnerability vanished. "It would seem we have a demon problem."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Hi. So...it's been a while. And I'm sorry about that. But here I am, and we've got a solid couple of chapters ahead of us, if I can remember to post them (mea culpa, mea maxima culpa). I'm not entirely sure how long I'm going to make this fic, but rest, assured, those of you who are still reading, that we have quite a bit to go yet, as per my irresolute plans. So, we'll try to get back on a bit more normal of a schedule, as much as possible. Also, I was reading back through this on a long car ride over the weekend, and some of the formatting in the earlier chapters is a bit wonk. I'm sorry about that. Ignore a new author's blunders._

 _Also, in unrelated news, I've changed my pen name. So, if you're searching for this story for some reason, or for me for some reason, go by the new name. The old one just felt disingenuine, not that it matters._

 _Feel free to review if you have any thought or ideas. I may even accept a constructive criticism or two- try me._

 _-xo casey_

Chapter 13

ALEC POV

"Demon problems," Magnus wrinkled his nose, looking even more catlike than usual curled up in Alec's sheets. "I just call them daddy issues."

" _Magnus_." Jace's voice was deadly, and Alec could see the dark circles under his eyes, made darker by shadows thrown onto him from the dim lighting. Moments ago, he had been thankful for it. Luckily, him and Magnus had been sleeping, tangled together warmly, and nothing more incriminating when Jace had none-too-subtly burst in, flipping on the lamp. Still, he'd had to suppress a yelp and the instinct to cover up, despite the fact that he was once again fully clothed. Jace, who'd normally be loathe to miss an opportunity to antagonize Alec about the furious blush he was currently sporting, had basically ignored him in a way that told him it could only be about one thing- Clary. Something was wrong with Clary.

"Fine, fine." Magnus acquiesced, casually pulling on a pair of dark purple skinny jeans from their position on the floor. Alec blushed further, but rose as well, pulling his own pants on and reaching for his gear belt. Jace held up a hand to stop him.

"Not that kind of demon problem." there was an edge to his voice, which seemed to drain the humor out of it. Frowning, Alec set the gear belt back down, and followed Jace down the hallway. He was surprised to see it was still dark.

"Mom? Isabelle?" he asked quietly, glancing at the darkened doorways.

"Isabelle is asleep. I don't want to wake her if I don't have to. Mom is downstairs, waiting for Luke and Jocelyn to arrive." he replied without turning around.

"Jace." Alec reached out, grabbing him by the shoulder. "What is going on?" Jace paused, tilting his head to the side, but still not fully facing Alec.

"I'm not sure."

And the uncertainty in his voice was enough to keep Alec quiet for the rest of the way through the halls. When they reached the Infirmary, Alec was startled to see the sheets of one of the beds, the one he had seen Clary and Jace laying in earlier, stained with blood. Clary was off the side, standing to talk to Magnus, a wadded shirt splashed with red clutched in one of her hands. He gasped, closing the gap between them in several steps.

"First things first- Clary, good to see you alive. Don't scare me like that again, biscuit." Magnus' tone was casual, but Alec could sense the sentiment underneath it. It was still bizarre to him that Magnus had known Clary as a child, even watched her grow up. There was a certain affection in his voice that he seemed to hold for very few people- Alec himself included. It occurred to him that not only Jace had suffered that day, but he'd been too exhausted and worried to pick up on it. "Secondly, I'd love to know just exactly what happened here." Alec seconded him silently, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with Magnus as Clary began her story. Though Alec hadn't known Clary for as long as Magnus, or loved her as much as Jace, she had become a part of his life, and it was a relief to see her standing, speaking, more than he had thought it would be.

As she finished telling the story, she sat down on a nearby bed, as if recounting the story exhausted her. And it was true, she looked exhausted. They all did. Even Magnus' eyes, which looked large and vulnerable without eyeliner or glitter, were smudged with sleep. And there was a certain, deeper restlessness he saw in Clary which spoke of having one's only sleep interrupted by nightmares. Jace paced the room behind them, and her eyes traced his path worriedly.

Magnus sat back thoughtfully. His eyes grew distant, and Alec could tell that he was trying to remember if he had ever encountered anything similar. His fingers skimmed Alec's where they met, but his eyes skimmed decades, lives Alec still didn't know about, might never know about. Suddenly, his eyes focused, meeting Alec's with warm curiosity. Alec shook his head slightly and Magnus turned to face Jace and Clary at the same time.

"I've never seen this happen before," he began, "but I have heard of something similar." Jace exhaled infinitessimally, resting against the bedframe. Clary leaned back slightly, brushing him with her shoulders, and he ran a hand through her hair, bending down to kiss her on top of the head. Alec begrudged them the affection, not just because he no longer resented Clary for the way Jace loved her. He had a similar love of his own now. He saw in Jace's eyes the uncertainty of having watched his world fall apart once that day, and being terrified that it was happening again. Jace nodded at Magnus, who continued.

"There was a Shadowhunter, several centuries ago. I never met him, no one you've ever met ever met him. But he came to a warlock who I knew for help. He had battled a demon not unlike the one you described, and after he was bitten and recovered, he began having nightmares. Nightmares that bled into reality. The demon poison had entered his bloodstream, and the demon was able to… manipulate his body remotely. Injure him, make him ill. So he sought help in finding a way to fix the problem- to eradicate the poison, or to eliminate the demon who was causing the problem." Magnus swallowed, glancing up at Jace, finding his unspoken question there- _And?_

"First, the warlock tried to remove the demon poison from the Shadowhunter's bloodstream. It… didn't work." Magnus winced. "The damage of the bite returned, but didn't respond to healing runes or herbs. It was as if the demon poison was keeping the wound healed, and when you removed it, it was reverted. So they tried another method. He- the Shadowhunter- decided to summon the demon, using it's own poison, and kill it. He thought that once it was dead, the thing would lose it's power over him. And it's possible he was right." Magnus began, trying to sound upbeat. "But summoning a demon of that strength- one that can control dreams, can torment someone from afar like that- it's dangerous. Extremely dangerous. And the warlock refused to help him do it. But this Shadowhunter-" he glanced at Clary who looked very pale. She set her jaw. "He was being driven mad. And every time he slept, the injuries were getting worse. So he summoned the demon himself- haphazardly, improperly. And it consumed him." Magnus paused, surveying the room. His eyes skimmed from Alec's wide-eyed bewilderment to Clary's exhaustion to Jace's poorly concealed panic.

But before any of them could reply, the door flew open behind them.

 _  
_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hopefully that last chapter provided a little clarity (Clary-ty?) on what happened earlier. I know it's not a waterproof explanation, but bear with me. Also, I'm sorry if any of the details in the newer chapters (particularly the ones you haven't read yet) don't entirely match up with some of the older stuff. It's gotten to the point where it's just long enough that it's impractical to read over it from start to finish every time I go to write, and I write pretty disjointedly. So forgive me if my memory fails me._

 _Anywhat, enjoy._

 _-xo casey_

Chapter 14

CLARY POV

Clary sat very still on the bed. Listening to Magnus, she was almost certain that if she moved, she would crumble entirely, like a sand sculpture. She knew that this was ridiculous- she was a Shadowhunter- they were tempered in steel. They fought demons before breakfast and were handed blades instead of teddy bears as children. But she had barely begun Shadowhunter training, and she wasn't all that good at concealing her emotions. So instead of flinching as Magnus spelled out what was almost certainly her eminent demise, she froze. She set her jaw, and she froze.

She could feel Jace stiffen behind her, his body giving away what his face would not. Without any of them saying it, she could read the mood of the room. They were lost. Summoning a demon was against Clave Law, and to ask even Magnus to do it would be extremely dangerous. She wouldn't want to risk getting any of the others in trouble, they would never allow her to go in alone- not Alec, if Magnus was involved, not Jace, if she was involved, and not Simon, or Isabelle for that matter if they heard about it. Clary shuddered, inwardly. Simon.

All she really wanted to do right now was see Simon, or her mom. Someone who took her back to a time before this madness of demon poison and nightmares. Even Luke, who brought memories of sunshine and summer and warmth. Even the sweater she had thrown on when Jace had gone to wake up Magnus wasn't enough to chase out the deep chill which had settled into her bones. She wasn't sure if anything was.

Suddenly, almost as if called forth by her thoughts, the door to the Infirmary flew open across the room.

In stepped her mother, all flying red hair and familiar worn jeans, followed closely by both Luke and Maryse, and, finally, Simon. Isabelle, apparently woken by the commotion, hovered behind them in what appeared to be her version of pajamas- black silk pants and a tank-top, also black, as if she subconsciously prepared for battle even in her sleep. Clary stood, rolling off the bed soundlessly. Before she even had the chance to speak, they reached her.

"Mom." Clary whispered, and her mother threw her arms around her. Numbly, Clary followed suit. Jocelyn's eyes were ringed with red, as if she hadn't really stopped crying all day. Clary saw, to her slight surprise, that even Luke's eyes looked puffy. She couldn't remember a time when he'd cried in front of her before, and the sight only brought tears to her own eyes. Soon, she was shaking with silent sobs, which had apparently not left her system. Luke slid behind her, looping her in a hug. In a different moment, she was sure the sight would have been comical- she was sandwiched. But her laugh caught in her throat, melting into another sob.

Simon stood a couple feet off, not wanting to intrude on her family moment. But the thing was- Simon was her family, and the closest thing she'd ever had to a brother… at least, the closest she cared to think about. Shivering away a thought of her blood-related, dead-eyed brother, she leaned forward, pulling Simon into the hug by his shirtfront. He looked bewildered at first, and she was sure it was due in part to her rapid sobbing, but she wrapped her arms around him, crushing him tighter than she might have when he was human. And he just tucked her head under his chin, letting her crush him and cry into his shirt.

She caught a glimpse of the other awkward-looking occupants of the room- Alec, Mayrse, Isabelle. All of them looked down at their hands, almost guiltily. Shadowhunters weren't used to big displays of emotion, much less tears or hysterical sobbing. But Jocelyn was no longer a Shadowhunter. Luke was no longer a Shadowhunter. And Simon had never been a Shadowhunter. So they all collapsed against each other in a very pathetic, very tearful huddle, until the sound of Maryse's voice broke them out of their reverie.

She looked pale, and was gesturing vaguely to the blood-stained bed, the crumpled ruined shirt. "What happened here?" _Shit_. Clary had meant to throw the sheets away, before she frightened anyone else. She sighed and disentangled herself from the hug. She backed up several steps, lifting the hem of her shirt slightly. She saw the adults eyes grow confused, but none of them stopped her. She stopped just above the navel, where the bottom of the cut was faded by now into a thick pink line. She heard the intake of breath from all of them, including Mayrse, and she tugged the hem back down rapidly, sitting on the edge of one of the beds.

Jocelyn's eyes grew wide and distant, in the same way Jace's had earlier as Magnus was telling the story of the Shadowhunter who had gone through the same thing. Fear mingled with exhaustion, all underlaid with what could only be described as dread. A deadly cocktail of emotion, all thanks to her. Everyone in this room was here, awake at what must be the middle of the night, thanks to her. She felt nauseous, looking at the dark circles under their eyes. As if sensing her despair, Jace sat behind her on the bed, not wrapping her in his arms as she knew they both wanted to, but quietly taking her hand, rubbing circles over her knuckles. A shiver rolled through her at even the slight contact, and she flipped her hand over, clutching his with more force than she had intended. He glanced down at her worriedly, but didn't say anything, just returned the pressure.

She began the story once again, for what she hoped was the final time, sinking even further into the bed as she watched them flinch at various aspects of it- Simon looked like he might be in shock. Luke looked like he was almost supporting Jocelyn, standing behind her with an arm wrapped loosely around her. Magnus had jumped in to supplement the story of the old Shadowhunter, ostensibly leaving out the details about his death, the demon he'd summoned. A silent understanding passed between them that those particular aspects of the story didn't need to reach Mayrse, or her parents, and thus the Clave.

Mayrse, to her credit, remained mostly passive and silent throughout the story, only occasionally pausing for a sharp intake of breath or a shocked blink, so Clary mostly shifted her focus to her, blurring out her despairing family. Then, when Clary was finished, she silently left the room. Clary watch her go impassively, and the room went silent. The silence grew until Clary could feel the weight of it, pressing her lungs and preventing her from speaking, or even raising her head. She was relieved when she heard someone across the room clear their throat.

It was Luke, having sat down on a bed next to Jocelyn. Clary looked up at him. Her mother stared pointedly down at her shoes, white knuckles clutching the edge of the bed. Luke ran a thumb over them deliberately, trying to soothe the tension there. Clary felt a twinge of guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Clary-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Enough. I'm here now. That's what matters, right?" She was reassuring herself as much as she was speaking to him. She was there. She was alive. She came back from the dead. Nothing could be as bad as that, right?

That was a dangerous question to ask, as a Shadowhunter.

Luke merely nodded, the ghost of a smile touching the corner of his mouth, probably at how stubborn she sounded. Jocelyn nodded downwards, rubbing her eyes with her sleeves to clear any residual tears. And before they could decide to take the next step, whatever the hell that was, Maryse quietly re-entered the room. This time, she was being trailed by several Silent Brothers.

"Clary, I'm sorry. We waited as long as possible. But given the information I've been presented, and the clear demonic involvement, I need to hand you over to the Clave for observation." A sharp hiss rose from around the room. Jocelyn's head fell through her hands and she looked up with venom.

" _Mayrse_." she began quietly. "You turned my daughter over- _to_ _the_ _Clave_?!"

Mayrse didn't flinch, only sighed. "She's a variable. And besides, it's the Clave. At the very least, she'll be safe."

"Exactly, Mayrse- it's the _Clave_. Sed lex, dura lex, right? What if you handed her a death sentence?" Luke's voice rose as he crossed the room to block Clary from the growingly anxious Silent Brothers. They hovered near the door, vaguely reminiscent of a swarm of bees preparing to sting. She remembered reading an article once about honeybees in beehives surrounding invading wasps in a tornado until the temperature rose inside the vortex and the wasp was basically baked alive. Perhaps they would do that and spare her the discomfort of waiting in a cell and being questioned by the Clave. But they only hovered by the door, not so much hesitant as patient. She sighed.

"Enough." she said, standing slowly. She squeezed Jace's hand and moved to let go, but he clung on, clearly wary. "We don't know that this is a bad thing… yet. Maybe they can help."

"Yeah, and maybe they'll lock you away in a cell until you're killed by your own mind." Jace replied harshly.

"Nobody is going in a cell." Maryse interrupted. "I've explained the circumstances to the Clave. No crime has been committed. She got the injury fighting demons, for the Angel's sake. They aren't going to lock her up for doing her damn job." Clary relaxed marginally. Jace, on the other hand, only grew more animated.

"Then what _are_ they planning to do, Maryse? Because I personally don't see anything that the Clave can do other than waste our time- which we might not have much of, in case you didn't notice!"

Mayrse's calm finally broke- she looked as if he'd slapped her. But the expression was gone from her face in a moment, replaced with cool distance. Clary understood how she felt. The bit about running out of time had stung, even though she knew he was just lashing out. He wouldn't meet her eyes, he was staring too intently at Maryse. "They want to have her sleep under observation, so that they can assess the situation personally."

" _No_." Jace immediately cut in. The venom had left his voice, replaced by urgency. He backed up to stand directly in front of her, as if he was ready to fight anyone who stepped forward. It probably wasn't far from the truth.

"Jace," Mayrse began quietly. "At this point, even I don't have a say in this. So either she can come with us, or I can send for reinforcements."

Jace squared his shoulders- clearly he'd mentally chosen the latter- but Clary sidestepped him quickly, pushing past Luke towards Mayrse. "I'll come. Voluntarily." She glanced back at Jace and Luke. "You don't want to fight the Clave."

"Right now I do." Jace said softly. He moved forward, taking Clary's and nodding to Mayrse.

"You can stay with her until we get to the Silent City. They'll probably want to do this on the Speaking Stars, so all the Silent Brothers can observe." Mayrse began. Clary shivered at the thought of that- all those dark hooded figures surrounding her, watching her sleep silently- like a nightmare before she even fell asleep. "You may also be allowed to observe, if you wish." Jace made a small strangled noise in his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a cough. Observe.

"Let's just go." Clary said, tugging Jace forward without glancing back at her mother, Luke, Magnus, or any of the other faces she couldn't… face.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: More of a teaser chapter than anything else... just a warning: I've been on vacation for a few weeks, and there wasn't any wifi (torture, I know), but I haven't forgotten about this story. So I'm just going to upload probably quite a few chapter all at once right now, and then continue writing. Sorry about the elapsed time._

Chapter 15

JACE POV

She looked so distant, on the Speaking Stars. Her face was a smudge of white against the black of the floor. Her hair was tied back, no-nonsense. A few strands fell over her forehead, and his hands itched to tuck them behind her ears, to kiss away the cold dread underneath her blank expression. In fact, his hands itched to grab hers and run off, to escape, to do really anything other than sit up here and watch. Somewhere in his mind, he protested his sedentary position. _Useless_... It seemed to hiss. It wasn't wrong.

He couldn't even pace- just watch with horror from a distance as a Silent Brother traced a rune for sleep on her forearm. She was trying to keep her face impassive, probably for his sake. But her hands shook as the rune burned into her skin- black against the paleness of her skin. And he watched with dread as she slumped, unconscious, into the chair they had dragged into the center of the room. Any residual noise from the room's non-Silent Brother inhabitants- the members of the Clave, the Lightwoods, Jace himself- stopped immediately.

At first, she looked almost peaceful. Like she had been anticipating a blow that hadn't come.

The occupants of the room seemed to collectively draw a breath- waiting. Watching.


	16. Chapter 16

Clary's spine seemed to stiffen. Her hands clenched into fists. Jace watched her breathing visibly accelerate- her chest rising and falling with speed like it was gaining momentum. He felt his own heartbeat increase, as if their bodies were somehow linked. In his peripheral vision, he saw the others eye him cautiously, as if waiting for him to swoop in. He clenched the bench underneath him, knuckles white with the unnecessary amount of force he was exerting. Then watched as Clary's jaw clenched, and an eerie flutter of movement travelled across the room- every Silent Brother mutely shifting in their positions, white robes rippling like water. Their faces were shrouded from him, but he could sense the mood shift from solemnity to surprise- maybe even fear.

Then Clary cried out, and the Silent Brothers stood simultaneously.

Clary's nose was bleeding slowly, as if she'd been hit in the face. Dark purple bruises began to appear on her arms, and Jace could swear, though distance impaired him, that they were shaped like hands. He began to shake, and he stood, shaking off the outreached arms he'd anticipated. Immediately, he was flying down the stairs. He could hear Alec swear and follow after him. And the most concerning thing was, not a single Silent Brother turned to stop him, despite the racket they were making flying down the stairs. They seemed to be shifting more rapidly now, like white caps being whipped into existence by wind. Jace was feet away from the rail when a single thought, unified by a thousand voices, reached his mind. On the chair, Clary cried out again, panic verging on tears now.

 _Wake her_. The Silent Brothers thought. _Wake her now._

And Jace vaulted over the railing separating him from the Speaking Stars, rolling harshly on his ankles. His heart beat in his throat as he gapped the distance between him and Clary. One of her hands clenched the arm of the chair. The other was clutched limply across her stomach, bruises trailing from shoulder to wrist. Gently, but firmly, he shook her awake.

"Clary." he said, urgently, tuning out the murmurs of the Clave behind him. "Clary, please wake up." With a gasp, her eyes flew open. She sprung up immediately, knocking over the chair with a sweeping motion.

"Clary," he breathed, relieved, but as he stepped closer to her, she jumped back, eyes flying wildly around the room. Her eyes focused on him, widening and then narrowing rapidly. Her right arm remained wrapped gingerly around her torso- the sight worried him. All of her worried him.

"Stay back." she said, quietly but firmly. She was holding out her good arm, as if she could hold him back with her fist alone. "I fell for this one last time, it won't happen again." She was shaking in place, like she couldn't quite hold herself still. Jace's heart broke, seeing her like this- eyes focused on him, latent fear surfacing like water boiling.

 _Who gave you those bruises, Clary?_ he thought. _Who did this to you?_

"Jace… or whatever you are…" No. "I'm not sure if this will make any difference, but... How can I know? That you're real? That you won't…" her voice was a whisper. Her eyes were wide and somehow apologetic.

Jace took one small step closer to her, palms up in a gesture of innocence. And finally, she collapsed against him, immediately sobbing into his shoulder.

"How can I know, Jace? How can I know that you're real?" she hiccuped against his shoulder.

"Doesn't this feel real?" he whispered into her ear. And at those words, he felt her stiffen underneath him.

"That's exactly what the last one said." she whispered, freezing in place.

"That's the thing, Clary." the thing that looked like Jace whispered into her ear, it's voice wrong- cold and cacophonous. And with Jace's arms, he slid a thin dagger she hadn't seen in his hands into her stomach.

"You can't know."


	17. Chapter 17

CLARY POV

Clary woke with a gasp on the same chair she had been put to sleep on, dizzy and panicked. A sweeping glance told her that this scene was different from the other two already. The Silent Brothers were funnelling out of the room rapidly, like an hourglass on fast forward. And there was Jace, being held back by a struggling Alec as he flung himself towards her. She stiffened immediately this time, holding up her good arm to keep him at a distance.

"Just do it already." Despite the bustle of the room, she didn't need to raise her voice above a whisper to reach him. "I can't take _this_ any longer." She saw Jace's eyes widen from a distance. They were liquid gold, and she wanted nothing more than to know that it was actually him. But they all looked so heartbreakingly realistic. All the Jace's from her dreams. The Jace who had sprained her wrist. The Jace who had given her those bruises. The Jace who had stabbed her. She drew in a shuddering deep breath, feeling it press against her bruised ribs. And she sank to her knees, lowering her arms to her sides and closing her eyes against the anticipated coming blow.

But nothing came.

This wasn't necessarily a good thing- the demon was tricky, tricky and patient. But when she opened her eyes again, Jace was standing several feet away from her, Alec still clinging vaguely to one of his sleeves. His face was a mask of pain- all cheekbones and angles in the dim light. He seemed to exist in superposition in that moment- half of him already kneeling next to her, assessing her wounds, healing her, comforting her; and half of him freezing in place, not wanting to scare her. Clary felt her injuries hit her like a wave of pain then, washing over her, pooling in her throbbing wrist and stinging stomach.

"Stele… I need…" She trailed off, another dizzying wave of pain making her shudder. He unfroze then, landing harshly on his knees against the black marble.

"Clary...Clary, Jesus- where are you hurt?" And he sounded just like her Jace. "What can I do?" And she pointed out her major injuries to him, watching concentration furrow his brow as he sketched careful iratzes near them, feeling his energy flow through the stele into her limbs, numbing relief soothing her shaking. Silently, she took the stele from his hand, not meeting his eyes as she sketched one additional rune on her forearm- Wakefulness. Immediately energy buzzed through her sore veins, layering over the exhaustion.

The room had practically emptied out by then, and Clary skimmed her eye over those who remained- all members of the Clave, deep in conversation off the the side. Jace seemed to relax infinitessimally when he saw her stand, stretch. The bruises, clearly hand-shaped at close range, faded to non distinct patches and were gone almost entirely. She even flexed her stiff wrist, feeling only an echo of the pain which once emanated from it.

"When you first woke up…" Jace began, and Clary looked down at her hands, knowing where this sentence was going. "What did you mean, 'just do it'?"

"You mean besides my obvious endorsement deal with Nike?" she replied dryly. Jace squinted at her, confused.

"You're deflecting." he pressed.

"It was… a series of nightmares this time." she began defeatedly. "They all started the same way. I woke up in the chair, and I thought that nothing had happened. So I was relieved, I let my guard down. I even began to write off the whole experience with the last nightmare as a coincidence. But then things would…" she winced, a tiny gesture, but she was sure he caught it. "Go wrong. And I would wake up in the chair again."

Jace was quiet for a moment. "It was me, wasn't it?" he asked softly. "In your dreams, it was me who did these things to you."

Clary didn't deny it. But seeing the soft horror in Jace's eyes, she knew somehow he would manage to blame himself for this. "Don't you dare even _think_ that this is in _any_ _way_ your fault, Jace Lightwood-" she began, huffing through the sentence emphatically. But he cut her off by crushing her to him- just a hug, but the warm familiarity of being enveloped by him was somehow still extremely relieving.

"You're alright?" he whispered into her ear, still wrapped around her. "I mean, really. Are you okay?"

Clary buried her face into him, wishing she could just stay there and close her eyes and wait for someone else to to solve her problems. But that wasn't her life anymore. Being a Shadowhunter meant more than just slaying demons- it meant solving your own problems. Being your own hero.

"I think I understood, for the first time, how the other Shadowhunter went mad." she replied, muffling her voice against him. "I just… it was impossible to know when I was really awake. And every time I let myself relax, I had guessed wrong." A shiver rolled through her body then, and Jace's grip on her softened. "Even now, I can't be sure." Jace stepped back then, opening his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Then his jaw set, and he scanned the room behind her.

"We need to find Magnus." he said, curtly. "We're getting rid of this thing, right. _Now_." And he took her hand, tugging her in the direction of the bleacher-like amphitheater seats surrounding the Speaking Stars. It was comforting to see a spark of his usual purpose, so she allowed herself to be led away. But as they went to pass through the door, a tall man in Clave robes reached out an arm to bar her way.

"You're still under observation." he said, his voice gravelly but apologetic. "You aren't allowed to leave."

"I'd like to see you try to stop us," Jace said, voice low and deadly.

"Listen. We don't want any more trouble." began the man matter-of-factly. "The Silent Brothers have convened separately to discuss a plan of action. Until then, being that we're unsure of what kind of threat she may pose, we're holding her here."

"Here? In the Silent City? Like a prisoner?" Jace stood in between Clary and the Clave man. "The only threat she poses is to herself. You saw what happened out there." Jace gestured to the chamber, which was now almost entirely empty. "You'd be condemning her to die."

"You don't know that. The Silent Brothers might have a solution. Besides, she's a Shadowhunter. If she poses a threat to the rest of us, carrying around that demon, maybe it's the honorable thing to do."

Clary could see Jace physically recoil, and in the split second before he reacted, she heard him mutter, "Plan B." And he punched the Clave official in the face.

Just then, Alec, Magnus, Simon, and Isabelle appeared at the other end of the hallway. They all gaped at Jace, who stepped back as the man slumped over, unconscious.

"Plan B?!" Clary yelled, shoving him lightly.

"Maybe we should go." Alec said.

"You think?!" Isabelle said, turning to leave and gesturing at Clary and Jace to follow. The halls of the Silent City were still mostly deserted, empty of even the normal hovering presence of the Silent Brothers. The six of them hurried from chamber to chamber, peeking around corners for pitfalls or Clave robes. All the while, Alec sputtered out a low commentary aimed venomously at Jace, of which Clary could only hear words like 'moron' and 'testosterone'. While not completely displeased with himself, Jace seemed to have accepted the gravity of the situation as they almost spilled over a corner before spotting a very terse looking Shadowhunter around it.

"I'm sorry to interrupt this low-budget remake of the Breakfast Club-" Simon whispered curtly, "but do we actually have an objective here? Or are we just kind of playing 'Let's Try Not to Get Thrown Into Clave Prison'?"

At that, Magus pulled them around the corner, to a nondescript-looking archway in the wall. "This will do," he said, drawing Clary to the front of the group. "Clary, darling, you know what we could use right now? A Portal."

"You're the warlock! Why don't you make a Portal?" Clary responded, more out of surprise than denial.

"Because when warlocks make Portals, there are these sort of… rules? Which you so frequently and frustratingly ignore. So, I leave it to your expertise."

Clary stepped to the front of the group. Alec pressed a stele into her hand, and she paused before beginning to draw the rune which she had only used once before. "I need a destination," she began. "Preferably somewhere with a soft landing- I've only ever done this once before, so I have a feeling things will get a bit bumpy."

"We need to go somewhere with enough space to summon a demon." Magnus replied, "So, to the layman, like an open field? Cafeteria? Classical Greek amphitheater?"

"Oh, right, let's just pop into the nearest _Classical Greek amphitheater?_ What's that, like a couple thousand miles away!?" Jace retorted, shooting Magnus a look.

"Listen, feisty: A- I was just giving you options, and B- I really don't think a couple thousand miles between us and the Clave would hurt right now."

"Enough!" Clary interrupted, beginning to move the Stele along the wall, tracing the glowing lines of a complex rune. "I've got it. It's not thousands of miles away, but it ought to do." And with that she completed the rune, and they were swept away by the vacuum-like force of Portal travel.


	18. Chapter 18

_Afternoon, lovely readers._  
 _So, as usual, I have apologies to make to begin with. It turns out summer can be busier than I'd anticipated. I've got a couple online courses, a job (!), and several other messy complications that I hadn't really foreseen when I set out to finish this fic off. However- I fully plan to finish it, though I won't make promises about a timeline. I will say this, though- near as I can tell (which is to say, as well as I can interpret my own story) we're nearing the (climactic!) end here. So, y'know, strap in._  
 _Oh, and thank you to any of you (hopefully, you know who you are) who have left reviews somewhat recently- they are a lot of what fuels me to actually sit down and get this done._  
 _Alright, now- enjoy._  
 _-Casey x_

* * *

JACE POV

Jace landed with a thud on his side in the middle of what looked like a scene from a pioneer novel- windswept fields of unkempt tall grass spread for practically a mile in every direction, where they met the edge of a dense forest. He could tell from the slight slope of the fields and his vantage point that they were on some sort of hill or small mountain, colored by the rosy orange glow of sunset. Wincing and trying to recover the breath which had been knocked out of him, he pulled himself to a sitting position. Usually Portal travel was like walking through a windy corridor, or missing a couple of steps on a flight of stairs- disconcerting, but not unpleasant. Using Clary's Portal was like being sucked by a vacuum and subsequently rejected. He had been spat out several yards above the ground, and had been too surprised and dizzy to land with any of his usual grace. Regaining his composure, he remembered in a moment where he was, and why.

Standing up suddenly, he scanned the field for other figures. Dotting the expanse of the moor were several shapes, scattered as if someone had haphazardly tossed the handful of them into the field from above. He quickly counted heads- one, two, three four… Alec, Izzy, Magnus, Simon… No Clary. Suddenly desperate, he cupped his hands to shout at the disgruntled figures down the hill.

"Clary?" he yelled, trying not to let the desperation color his voice. He saw the figures below, still brushing themselves off and rubbing sore elbows, turn towards him as his voice echoed across the field. They looked around where they had landed and shook their heads, silently confirming that she wasn't down there. "Clary!" he shouted once more, allowing a tinge of his anxiety to enter his voice.

"Easy." replied a familiar small voice, from the nearby edge of the fields.

"Clary." Jace breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to find the source of the voice. Clary was pulling herself into a sitting position in a particularly dense clump of wild grasses near the edge of the fields. She looked pale and breathless, but she was conscious and she was there. She sat with a concerningly exhausted air. She seemed to be taking a moment to rest before standing, and Jace noticed that the breaths which she drew quickly in and out were shaky and shallow. He walked over, offering an arm to help her up.

"One minute," she huffed, waving his arm away. She clutched the stele too tightly in her fist, which meant she was either on edge or in pain. _Or both_. cried a portion of Jace's mind which he presently ignored.

"Are you okay?" Jace crouched next to her. She rolled her eyes at him, which was a good sign. "Alright, stupid question. What's wrong?"

"Nothing new," Clary responded, running a hand through her hair, which currently contained wild curls thanks to the Portal ride. "You forget that the last time I made a Portal, I almost died passed out in Lake Lyn."

"No," Jace replied quietly. "I don't forget."

Clary sighed and reached out her hands, and Jace lifted her to her feet. "I'm just tired, Jace. Like unnaturally tired. I think that…. thing, that demon, wants me to fall asleep. It's like I'm constantly fighting my body to stay awake." She rubbed a hand under her eyes, and Jace encircled her briefly in his arms.

"We're here, Clary. This is the endgame. You won't have to deal with this thing much longer." He said against the top of her head, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. Neither of them chose to mention the other, unthinkable possibility- the one where the demon won. The one where one of them didn't make it home. Jace shuddered slightly, involuntarily, and Clary broke the embrace.

"Let's go kick some demon ass." she announced, trudging down the hill in the direction of the others.

"That's my girl." Jace said fondly, jogging to catch up.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: More of today's update. And a (hopefully) brief side note- in case any of you are interested, another reason why this story is taking me so long is because apparently inspiration hath struck me down, which is to say I'm in the preliminary stages of writing several (seriously, like 7) other fics right now. So, sorry about the wait, hopefully it'll be to someone's benefit when I finally post them._

 _-Casey x_

CLARY POV

"Alright, kiddos, Demon Summoning 101." Magnus began, then stopped abruptly. "You know what, scratch that. This isn't a typical demon summoning."

"Is there such thing as a ' _typical'_ demon summoning?" Simon interjected skeptically, drawing air quotes around the word 'typical'.

"Hush." said Magnus. They were standing in the middle of the large pentagram Magnus had scorched into the clearing of the field. Clary had Portaled them to an empty field she sometimes hiked to when they were staying a Luke's cottage in the summer- secluded, open, not too far from home. Clary had protested when they'd all insisted on summoning the demon with her, even when she wasn't entirely sure what it would entail. But she had been firmly overruled.

"Now, since we've pretty much thrown the ritual of a typical demon possession to the wayside, I can't guarantee what happens from this point on." Magnus began. "Clary, I'm talking mostly to you. If this goes south…" he trailed off, obviously not keen on exploring the possibilities in front of everyone, including Jace, who hovered at her shoulder.

"It's not like we have a better option." Clary responded. "Let's just do this."

"Fine." Magnus said softly. Then, with slightly more bravado, he addressed the group. "Let's get started. The demon's venom is what's affecting Clary. That means it's in her bloodstream. Because we don't know what- or who- this demon is, we're going to use it's own venom to summon it. Unfortunately, that means-"

"It's fine." Clary cut him off brusquely. "I've got it." From her belt she drew a small dagger she had borrowed from Jace, foreseeing this exact moment. With only a slight wince, she drew a thin slice through the center of her palm. Immediately, a dribble of blood began to pool and Magnus motioned for her to let it fall to the center of the pentagram. Nothing happened immediately, and everyone seemed to hold their breath. Magnus crouched, sketching symbols in the air with fiery motions and muttering in a harsh-sounding language Clary didn't recognize. And as Clary stared at these symbols, the glow of sunset and the rustle of grasses and the cooing of small animals in the brush seemed to fade. It was as if she was looking through a window at her surroundings, and the window was growing more tinted, more opaque. Until finally, there was just blackness. Blackness so thick as to suggest she was asleep, but Clary could feel her heart beating in her throat and her hands moving through empty air around her.

She tried to speak, to call out and see if anyone was nearby, but her voice caught in her throat. Her heart began to beat faster. She was alone in this crushing darkness. She was going to die, alone in this crushing darkness. Trying to walk was like moving through gelatin, so it was all she could do to reach out her arms and see if she could feel anyone nearby. She was about to give up when she felt her hand skim across a hand directly behind hers. For a moment, she flinched away, thinking that this was somehow one of the demon's tricks. But the hand found hers, and she recognized it immediately- scarred, warm, bigger than hers. The others were here- specifically Jace. She looped her hand through his and squeezed hard- probably a bit too hard.

Just then, a voice, hideous but familiar, echoed within her head. She could tell by the way Jace's grip on her hand tightened that he could hear it too.

 _You rang, Clary Fray? Oh, and you brought friends! How sweet._ It's voice scraped across the inside of her mind, dripping with malice. _You can all die together. Or, you can die one by one, very slowly. Perhaps starting with you?_

And Clary gasped as she felt Jace's hand ripped free from her grip. Before panic could set in, rage swelled up inside of her, causing her to burst out, "Coward! Show yourself. You know why we're here."

 _Clary, where was this bravado the last time we met?_ the demon hissed, seeming to draw closer to her. _Far cry from the terrified little girl who did nothing but scream for her boyfriend to come save her. I wonder… will you be able to save him?_

"You know how this ends." Clary shouted into the void surrounding her. "No one else has to get hurt."

 _Oh, Clary._ The demon cooed, it's voice as venomous as it's fangs. _How naive of you to think that I fight fair._

And as he said that, Clary heard someone nearby grunt and draw in a shuddering breath- in pain. Jace. It had to be Jace. How could she have been stupid enough to let him come- to let them all come?

 _Admit it, Fray_. The voice grew more insistent in her mind. _You brought your friends here to die._

"No." Clary shouted firmly.

 _You knew. You knew that you were going to die from this and you dragged them down with you._

"NO." Clary shouted.

 _You are your father's daughter._

At this, Clary's panic and dismay boiled over. Shouting, she hurled the small knife from the ceremony as hard as she could in the direction the voice seemed to be coming from. And like a sheet of glass, the darkness shattered.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Oh, yeah. We're there folks. I was originally going to break this one down into a few chapters, but far be it for me to rob you of what you've rightfully earned with your patience. I know things will seem pretty buttoned up by the end of this chapter, but I plan on extending it by at least a few with some well-deserved fluff. So feel free to stick around.  
Oh, and I wonder- did anyone predict this?  
-casey x_

 __

CLARY POV

Clary was growing increasingly panicked. The phrase 'make your nightmares come true' did not bode well- certainly not for the others in the group. Just as the demon had finished speaking, she watched with horror as one by one, the others who were still standing collapsed to the ground, clearly in pain.

"Jace! Magnus! Alec!" A laugh like a knife scraped across the inside of Clary's mind. She dropped to her knees, darting from person to person and finding them locked in identical grimaces of pain. At this point, her fear, fury, and exhaustion were all fusing into a very dangerous cocktail of emotions inside her. Catching one more glance of the torture in Jace's expression as he huffed shallow breaths in and out through his teeth, she was ready to do something drastic.

"Enough!" she shouted nowhere in particular. "What's your endgame, huh? You'll kill me? If you're going to kill me, kill me now! They have _nothing_ to do with this!"

The laugh began again, the same terrible scraping sound. But Clary listened, muscles locking with fear, as it became something slightly less demonic, but just as sinister.

As it became almost… human.

"Actually, Clary-" the voice lilted over her name, too familiar. "They have everything to do with this. If you'll remember." The voice- that voice. Real, true terror trickled down Clary's spine, causing her to fall, hard, to her knees. She felt like she'd been kicked in the ribs. She couldn't even seem the fill her lungs- the air in the room was suddenly freezing, sickening. Impervious to, or maybe even feeding off of her panic, the voice crept closer to her. Soon enough, shoes swam into the edge of Clary's tear-blurred vision. A hand, cold and smooth like marble found her face, and she flinched away, but not before chancing a glance upward.

Sebastian. It was Sebastian.

"I'm back, Clary. Aren't you happy to see me?" Sebastian teased, his voice alight with all the frigid charm Clary still heard in her nightmares. "Look at me, Clary." The voice was flatter this time, more forceful. The hand she'd felt earlier gripped her jaw again, more than a caress this time. He forced her eyes upward towards his, and she found exactly what she expected. They were flat black, and full of malice. Malice, and something darker.

"You're… an illusion," Clary stuttered, finally regaining her composure enough to dart away from him, standing with her back to one of the walls of the grimy warehouse. "You're a trick. A test. You- the demon even said so!"

"Yeah, that was a fun game." Sebastian mused. "Visiting you in your dreams- and I'm sorry about the bruises." His hand skated up her arm, and she was practically powerless to stop him- literally, with her back against the wall. "But I'm sure I could make them feel _better…_ " He pressed closer.

Nausea surged inside of Clary, and she tried to force him off of her. He didn't even sway. No- god, no. She had to distract him. "Wait. If you're not just an illusion, how was I able to wake up from those dreams?"

His eyes narrowed, obviously growing tired of her stalling. "When your… friend over there put a sword through my spine," he trailed a finger down the nape of Clary's neck to indicate, "he killed me. That is to say, he killed my human body. But, just like _you,_ I'm not entirely human. All of this-" he gestured vaguely to the warehouse, and his own form. "is the fragment of me which was pure demon." Somehow, he pressed even closer to her, seeming to suffocate her with presence. "And it is quite alive. And growing. Soon, we won't just be together in dreams, Clary. Soon, we'll be together _forever_." He grinned, twistedly, and Clary felt dread boiling over in the pit of her stomach. She had no defense for this- she had no defense left. Only panic.

"No," she muttered, trying in vain to shove him off of her one more time. She searched desperately for her knife, but it was gone. Her panic intensified. "NO."

Sebastian laughed coldly, too close to her. Too close, on all sides, this cold pressing weight. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, a single chilling word.

" _Yes_."

"Actually, she was right with _no_." A voice from behind Sebastian rang out, and all of the sudden, the terrible weight on her was lifted. Sebastian slumped to his knees, a small, choked breath of surprise escaping his mouth. Jace stood behind him, clutching a small knife in his clenched fist. Sweat ran down his forehead as he collapsed back down to his knees- clearly, he was still in pain. But as the body of Sebastian faded to vapor beneath them, the grimace of pain on his face faded to a dark, blank expression. "I hope twice was the charm."

It was the sort of comment which was normally paired with a crooked grin, or at least some smugness. But in this moment, there wasn't even a glimmer of humor on Jace's face. He was, once again, her avenging angel incarnate. But as everything began to fade around them- changing, she could tell, back to the windswept moor where they'd left reality, Clary could barely meet his eyes. Actually, she could barely do much of anything. Her entire body was shaking, and she clutched a hand over her mouth, not even having noticed the fact that she had practically collapsed.

"Clary- Clary, what is it- are you hurt?" Jace was suddenly there, crouching in front of her, watching her with concern bordering on panic. "God, please don't be hurt again. What happened? Please talk to me."

"Sebastian…" she choked out, panicked breaths racing in and out of her lungs. "Oh god, it was Sebastian. He's alive." Clary reached up, clutching Jace's face in both hands. "We were stupid to think we could kill him- that we could get rid of him." Desperate tears began to run down her face. "He's going to kill me. He's going to kill all of us."

"Clary, it's okay." Jace soothed, quickly sweeping her into his arms. "It's going to be okay. He was just one of the demons tricks. And I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But he's gone now." Jace wiped an errant tear off of her cheek. "Can't you feel that it's... gone?"

That made Clary pause. Initially, panic had overwhelmed her senses, spiraled her out of control. But now, as her breathing began to slow, she realized that Jace was right. She felt… different. Lighter. Like she had been carrying someone around on her shoulders and they'd finally stepped down. She felt like her lungs were full of air, properly full, for the first time all day. All the pain, the fear, the sinking feeling that came with being awake or asleep- it was gone. Like Sebastian, it had faded.

Slowly, a small smile grew on her face. "It's really over."

Jace's responding smile was brilliant, and it made her feel even lighter. "It really is."

"Jace, I don't even know what to say… I think you saved my life again. I love you. Really, truly, I love you." Clary said, staring up into his burning eyes. Jace shifted slightly, drawing her closer, and they fell into place like puzzle pieces.

"You _are_ my life." Jace whispered, drawing her in for a kiss. And if their last kiss had been a kiss of reunion, this one was all happiness. Happiness that came with almost losing someone, and realizing that you were going to get to spend more time with them, realizing that the battle was over and you won. Clary kissed him with all of the lightness she felt, the bubble of warmth and passion growing inside her. They tilted, as the kiss deepened, eventually landing with Jace leaning over Clary like a cage, her fingers twisted in his hair and balled in his shirt. "Now let's never do that again." And he leaned down to kiss her with a trademark Jace Herondale grin.

Everything was okay.

"Hey lovebirds!" The shout came from just down the hill, and it was Clary's turn to grin as Jace groaned against her mouth. "Would one of you mind telling me _what the hell happened_?!" Back to reality, indeed.


End file.
